


Can't Be Bought

by Cherienymphe



Category: Knives Out (2019)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:54:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28868859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherienymphe/pseuds/Cherienymphe
Summary: You’ve gotten a job at the infamous Thrombey mansion with the help of your best friend Marta. It isn’t perfect, but it pays well. Your only true complaint takes the form of one Ransom Drysdale who seems to have had a problem with you from day one.
Relationships: Ransom Drysdale/Reader
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: NON-CON! {IF THIS OFFENDS YOU PLEASE DNI! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED}

You forced a smile, collecting the empty champagne glasses as Walt and Morris laughed at the joke they’d made at your expense. Joni grimaced in response, shooting you an apologetic look as you turned away and decided to make yourself useful in the kitchen. You set the tray down with a sigh, forcing your shoulders down, reminding yourself that a job was a job, and you had been paid good money.

You didn’t wait on anyone. Not since your last job years ago that you had gotten during senior of high school in order to have a little pocket change. Since then, you had gone to college and had been studying your butt off for the past three years. Unfortunately, circumstances that you had still yet to fully comprehend, had forced you to look for a source of income, and that was how your best friend proposed the idea of working for Mr. Harlan Thrombey himself every once in a while.

The Thrombeys were known for their wealth, and when your best friend had first started working for the patriarch, you had been nervous…rightfully so. While Harlan was as sweet as could be, the rest of his tribe left much to be desired. They were the kind of privileged and bigoted beings that you prided yourself on steering clear of for most of your life. Even Joni, while meaning well, still had her moments where you wondered how a woman her age couldn’t grasp something so basic a 4th grader could understand. Meg was perhaps the only redeemable one of the bunch.

Nevertheless, you were taken on as a part time employee, helping out at whatever weekly shindig the family decided to host. It was tiring at best, but with the money you pocketed, there really wasn’t much room for complaint. Really…there was only one true problem with the job.

Marta, your best friend and nurse for the wealthy novelist himself, was in the home somewhere having to deal with unnecessary demands and racist jokes from her employers just as you were. Her main concern however was always Harlan, and you never envied that position more than you did now as you heard a newcomer enter the home, his arrival welcomed by a chorus of groans and protests.

You swallowed, shoulders tensing for just a moment before you forced the negative feelings down. As _delightful_ as the family was, there was only one person who could warrant that kind of reception.

“(Y/N)…I was worried that you wouldn’t be here tonight. What a disappointment that would have been…”

You looked up, dark eyes connecting with those of the devil himself.

Ransom Drysdale.

Ransom was Harlan’s grandson, tall and muscular and dark-haired, the epitome of handsome some would say. Hell on earth, others might add.

“Hugh,” you greeted evenly.

He preferred “the help” call him Hugh.

“(Y/N),” he replied just as evenly with that familiar smirk ghosting along his pink lips.

He stepped through the doorway of the kitchen, and you looked away, continuing your task of filling up some more glasses. The drunker the family became, the rowdier they got, and keeping the alcohol flowing was always the best thing for you.

“All of the festivities are out there, you know.”

He was closer now, not close enough to touch you, but close enough to make you uncomfortable. Truthfully, Ransom had always made you uncomfortable. You weren’t exactly sure when it started. You’d always known of him, of his antics, his personality, and reputation. Before you had even met him, you didn’t like him. He was the embodiment of everything you both hated and feared, and that made you uncomfortable, but it was for reasons even Marta could understand.

However, the first time you’d stepped foot into the eerie mansion all those months ago, nervous yet eager to finally earn your keep, Ransom himself was the first member of the family that you had encountered. He had stepped into the foyer, in the process of saying something to the housekeeper Fran, something incredibly snarky and offensive, no doubt, when he’d stopped short. It seemed that he had taken a few seconds to even notice you standing beside her, quiet and wide-eyed as you glanced around.

You never did forget that look.

He had snapped his mouth shut, tilting his head to the side in the most threatening way as his blue eyes studied you. If at all possible, you would have sworn that his eyes had clouded over, growing darker as the corner of his lip pulled upwards into a crooked smile. You had unconsciously inched closer to Fran, forcing a straight face as you fought to not look away.

“…and who is this?”

It was such a simple question. Hell, after everyone else had arrived, they’d all asked the very same question too, but not like Ransom had. They had simply wanted to know who you were and your purpose, visibly excited at the prospect of more help around the house, but Ransom… Ransom seemed to be most interested in your name. He was interested in your secrets, your weaknesses, what lay beneath your shirt. Ransom was interested in power over you.

“I believe I’m talking to you,” Ransom continued when you didn’t respond to his remark, pulling you from your reverie.

There was a boisterous laugh just as the sound of something breaking reached your ears. You swallowed an exasperated sigh before glancing up at him, quickly looking away as you found his intense eyes on you as he leaned on the counter.

“I’m working, Hugh,” was all you said.

You found it best to keep your responses to the trust find baby short and sweet. He was always trying to engage you in conversation, and while you knew that giving him as little attention as possible only kept the remarks coming, you believed it was better than entertaining his nonsense. There was no telling what the handsome man could talk you into.

“Surely you can talk and work at the same time. They don’t teach you that at school?”

You simply glanced at him again before grabbing the tray and making your way around him. Your shoulder brushed along his chest as you exited the kitchen, the smell of his cologne threatening to cling to your hair and skin, as if trying to suffocate you just like Ransom was.

Your appearance was met with cheers and eager hands as you brought more expensive champagne to the guests. The empty glasses in their possessions were swapped for full ones, and you bent down in order to safely collect the dirty dishes onto your tray.

“(Y/N), we’ve made a bit of a mess over here…,” Linda said, gesturing to the floor beside the couch she was sitting on “…we’d hate for someone to get cut on all this glass. Morris just can’t seem to hold his liquor.”

You forced another smile.

“Of course, I’ll be right out to get that after I put these in the kitchen,” you sweetly replied.

“You’re a saint,” Joni added just as Morris began to protest his wife’s statement about him.

The kitchen was empty when you entered, and you sighed in relief. It took no time for you to swap the tray of glasses for a broom and dustpan as you made your way back to the lively room. You weaved through the drunk guests, approaching the pile of broken glass when you were not so gently pushed. With a shriek you fell to the floor, the glass shards crunching beneath your hands and knees.

“What the hell, Ransom,” you heard Meg scream.

It wasn’t long before everyone else was tearing into your apparent assailant. You threw yourself back onto your butt as you frowned at your bleeding hands and knees. You had opted for an appropriate skirt tonight, pairing it with what you thought was a thick pair of tights, but the ripped fabric and your bleeding knees begged to differ.

“It was an accident,” Ransom finally threw back at the angry mob, but something inside of you knew better than that.

You hissed as you flexed your hands, unsure how to push yourself onto your feet without getting blood on anything. You didn’t have time to dwell on that as an unfamiliar pair of hands gripped your shoulders from behind, helping you up.

“Are you alright?” Ransom asked, lips brushing against your ear as his broad chest pressed into your back.

You flinched away from him, and you could have sworn you heard a soft chuckle escape his lips just before Meg practically shoved him away from you.

“Step away, you’ve done enough,” she snapped.

“I know they’re filling your head with man hating propaganda down in those libtard college courses, but it truly was an accident,” Ransom replied, hands raised in an innocent manner.

“Like anyone believes that,” Joni sneered as Meg guided you towards the bathroom, throwing a glare over her shoulder at the blue-eyed bastard.

Your knees stung as you walked through the house, and you couldn’t hold in the groan as you sat on the toilet seat, the skin on your knees stretching out. Meg was focused as she looked under the sink cabinets for a first aid kit, and the huff she let out told you that she hadn’t found one. She briefly placed her hand on the top of your head.

“I’ll be right back,” she said before hurriedly exiting the bathroom.

The response to Ransom’s assault wasn’t surprising. They hated him, sure, but the family also doted on you, that much was true, and sometimes you wondered if they saw you as something akin to a pet. A token poor person they could use as a charity case to make themselves feel better. You shook your head. Marta and Meg were really close, probably the only one in the family that she genuinely liked outside of Harlan. Meg wasn’t like that.

You heard footsteps approaching the bathroom, and looked up with a small smile, only for it to fall at the sight of a tall figure stepping in the doorway. You swallowed as you gazed up at Ransom, his presence making you nervous.

“Where’s Meg?”

You eyed him before answering.

“She went to go find a first aid kit,” you responded, eyes accusatory.

If he noticed your venomous gaze, he didn’t comment on it, only nodding as he took in your bloody knees and hands.

“Are you alright?”

Your frown deepened, and he chuckled before leaning against the doorjamb with his arms crossed over his chest.

“I really didn’t mean to push you-.”

“I don’t believe you,” you harshly interrupted. “You aren’t a nice person, Hugh. I don’t think you ever have been. I don’t know if you just don’t like me or you feel slighted by me or maybe you just think I’m fun to mess with, but I feel like you’ve had it out for me from the very first moment I stepped into this house.”

You briefly looked away from him, taking a deep breath.

“I’m not leaving. If that’s what you’re aiming for you might as well give it up now, because I need the money, and truthfully speaking, _you_ are the only person who’s truly a pain in my ass here. You’re not as scary as you’d like to think, so just save your energy,” you spat.

His jaw ticked as he stared you down, eyes narrowed, and you heard the sound of approaching footsteps. You leaned back, glowering up at him as he stepped away. He slunk away just as Meg approached, and she stared after him in confusion.

“Are you okay? What did he want?” she demanded, clutching the first aid kit to her chest.

“Just apologizing,” you mumbled the lie.

Meg pursed her lips, a frown on her face before shaking her head and kneeling down before you.

“First things first, let’s get these tights off…”

.

.

.

You sat on the couch, head leaning back as you closed your eyes. There really wasn’t much you could do after Meg had cleaned you up and wrapped bandages around the offending areas. Marta and Fran were more than happy to step in and take over as you sat the rest of the evening out. You mainly sat with Meg, refusing anytime someone tried to coerce you into having a drink.

It wasn’t long before everyone began to retire, some piling into their expensive cars and leaving while others chose to sleep the fancy drinks off, opting to save the drive home for in the morning. Ransom was one of the last to slither away, eyes hardly leaving you for the rest of the night.

Normally, you would have left ages ago, but Marta insisted on driving you home. Your hands were injured, yes, but you were sure you were more than capable of driving yourself home. However, Marta wouldn’t hear anything of it, and eventually wore you down. That was how you found yourself waiting for her to finish up with Harlan as midnight approached.

You fought back a yawn, body worn out from your busy day. You honestly could have been home a while ago, but you knew that Marta would worry, and you figured there was no harm in humoring her. You did your best not to get impatient and fidgety. After all, you knew that caring for Harlan was a whole other job, but the pain killers Meg gave you were starting to wear off, and your hands and knees were beginning to ache again.

You glanced up as footsteps approached the living room, sharply inhaling at the sight of none other than Ransom. You had been under the impression that he’d left ages ago.

“You’re still here?” he chuckled, pulling on his signature brown coat.

You cleared your throat before answering.

“I’m waiting on Marta.”

He scoffed, and you watched as he glanced over his shoulder at the stairs before shaking his head.

“Marta never knows what kind of night she’s in for with the old man. Sometimes she leaves about this time, and sometimes she’s not pulling out of here till almost 2 in the morning,” he responded, approaching you.

You frowned at that, glancing at the stairs.

“Come on. I’ll give you a ride home,” he offered.

You blanched, eyes widening as you looked at him.

“Don’t be ridiculous! My house is nowhere near where you live. You’d be going out of the way… I have no problem waiting for Marta,” you refused.

“(Y/N)-.”

“Really, it’s fine.”

He glanced at his watch before raising an eyebrow at you, that haughty smirk taking residence on his lips.

“It’s getting late. Don’t you have class tomorrow?”

You grimaced. He was right. Tomorrow was Monday. You shifted on the couch as he knelt down before you, one dark strand escaping and brushing along his forehead.

“I know you don’t believe me, but I really didn’t mean to bump into you. The least I can do is make sure you get home. I know your knees must be killing you,” he said.

You frowned, wincing as a sharp ache traveled through your left knee, as if to prove his point. You looked away with a sigh before reluctantly nodding. He was right. It was late and you were in pain. Ransom may have been the world’s biggest ass, but you weren’t that prideful to suffer instead of letting him take you home. With his help, you stood.

“Let me text Marta…,” you trailed off, realizing that that’d be kind of difficult with the bandages.

“Don’t worry, I got it,” he said, pulling his own phone out with one hand while he helped you out of the door with the other.

Getting to the car was a rather slow and painful process, but you sighed in relief when you finally sagged into the passenger seat of the fancy vehicle. You leaned your head back against the headrest as the car purred to life, relaxing as the vibrations traveled through your frame.

The car ride was silent, but not uncomfortable. You were on the verge of dozing off anyway, and maybe Ransom knew that and that’s why he didn’t talk to you. You hoped Marta didn’t worry too much, and mentally reminded yourself to text her when you got home. You weren’t exactly sure when you’d fallen asleep, nor for how long, but it couldn’t have been no more than 15, maybe 20 minutes.

When you peeled your eyes open, it didn’t feel like you’d been sleeping for a long time, and you could feel the car slowing down. You frowned in confusion, blinking the sleep out of your eyes as you sat up. You couldn’t have gotten to your house that quickly, and as you glanced out of the window, you confirmed that you were right. Ransom pulled the car off into the grass on a long stretch of road, and your confusion grew as he turned it off.

“What’s going on?” you whispered as you turned to look at him.

Was he low on gas? That’d be so on brand for him. Your confused thoughts were a jumbled mess as he pocketed his keys.

“Hugh, what’s going on? Do I need to call triple A or…?”

He chuckled, reaching over you to open his glove compartment.

“You’re always calling me ‘Hugh’. Hugh, Hugh,” he complained, attempting to mimic your voice.

You scoffed, a confused and humorless chuckle escaping as you watched him pull a bottle of brandy out, and you rolled your eyes.

“You’ve said on numerous occasions that you want ‘the help’ to call you Hugh, so…”

You watched as he leaned back in his seat, opening the bottle and taking a sip as he raised his eyebrows with a nod.

“You’re right,” he agreed, almost regrettably. “I just…I just don’t think it will sound right. You know?”

You huffed, irritation growing as you glanced around.

“What are you talking about? What’s going on-?”

“Do you want some?” he offered, interrupting you.

“No! I want to go home, and you shouldn’t be drinking,” you admonished.

He took another sip, shifting to get comfortable as he stared through the windshield. You swallowed, your nerves standing on end as you watched him. You were so confused.

“You’re so sweet, (Y/N)…so much sweeter than Marta or _Fran_ ,” he scoffed her name. “It’s why I was so shocked at your outburst, tonight.”

“…what?”

He turned to look at you, blue eyes almost glowing in the darkness. They were so expressive and focused entirely on your frozen frame.

“Even more so when you admitted that you think I’m trying to get rid of you. As if I would ever let you get away from me,” he hummed.

Your nervousness grew, throat incredibly thick all of a sudden as you stared at him, wide-eyed.

“Hugh-.”

“Call me Ransom,” he said, cutting you off with both his words and his lips.

You gasped as he leaned over, pressing his fingers into the back of your neck as he pulled you into a kiss. He wasted no time and pressed his tongue between your lips. You didn’t respond, simply staring at him as he kissed you, trying to process what was happening. It was only when his other hand dropped the brandy to make its way under your sweater did you finally react.

You yanked yourself away from him as best as you could, slapping him with no hesitation. Your chest heaved as you frantically pressed your back into the passenger door. He clenched his jaw as he stared at you before reaching up to touch his cheek.

“What the hell are you doing?” you exclaimed, a very real fear making its way into your system now.

“You can’t be that dumb,” was his only response, and he gave you a look as if you were exactly that.

You blinked at him, hand sliding along the door as you watched his every move.

“You walk around the house looking like that with those big innocent eyes, pretending like any of the men in my family wouldn’t risk it for a night with you,” he continued.

You opened and closed your mouth in shock.

“What-?”

“…but you’re mine, and they know that. They see the way I look at you, the way I talk to you, treat you.”

“I’m not-!”

“You were from the first moment I saw you. I was always going to have you. That was a given. It was only a matter of when and where,” he said it so matter-of-factly that it scared you.

He reached over and undid your seatbelt. You grabbed at his hands as he reached for your waist.

“You walk around like you’re too good for me. Is that what it is, (Y/N)? You think you’re too good for _me_? A _Thrombey_?”

You shoved against him, so hard that his back hit the driver’s door, and you hissed as your hands protested the action. You didn’t know if he was trying to scare you or…or if he was serious. Ransom was a lot of things, a lot of vile things, but he wasn’t…he wouldn’t…

His jaw ticked as he glared at you, and you saw one of his hands clench into a fist, the other sliding into his coat pocket.

“How much?” he finally asked, sounding almost exasperated.

You narrowed your eyes.

“Excuse me?”

He looked up at you from beneath his lashes.

“How much is it going to take, hmm? I know you need money. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be caught dead working for the _Thrombeys_ , am I right?”

Anger rose within you as he pulled out his wallet, and you finally put two and two together.

“Fuck you, Ransom,” you snarled.

He smirked, eyes twinkling with something you were scared to name as he gazed at you.

“You think you can throw some money at me, and I’ll just open my legs for you?”

“Ten grand.”

“I don’t want your money you… _asshole_ ,” you spat, opening the door.

You hit at him, screaming as he grabbed your arm to pull you back into the car.

“Let go of me-!”

You cut yourself off with a gasp as he successfully pulled you back into the vehicle. In no time, he was over you, slamming the door closed and twisting his fingers in your hair. You let out a noise of protest, reaching up to push against his face when his other hand wrapped around your throat. Your eyes widened and you dug your nails into his arm, but he simply ignored you.

His other hand fumbled with something along the side of the seat, and before you knew it, the seat was falling backwards, taking you and Ransom with it. Fear began to settle in your gut as he had you completely pinned beneath him, now, his grip becoming tighter.

He’d never been this close to you before, ever. His hard chest was firmly pressed against yours, so much so that you could feel his heartbeat, and the calm rhythm you felt there brought tears to your eyes. You felt like _your_ heart was going to jump out of your chest. You shifted, trying to kick him off or _something_ when you felt it. You froze, eyes widening at the feel of a hard length pressing into the side of your thigh. You closed your eyes, trying to convince yourself that this wasn’t happening.

“Hey,” he shook you, forcing your eyes open.

You trembled as he leaned down, nose brushing against yours as he kissed you. You cringed away from him despite the softness of his lips, wanting to be anywhere else.

“I am going to have you. That is what’s going to happen tonight…”

“No,” you managed to gasp, protesting as you attempted to shake your head.

“Yes,” Ransom replied as he nodded his head with an amused smirk on his face. “I am, and you can either lie back and enjoy it, or I’ll just hold you down and make you. It’s your choice.”

You let out a sob, and he let go of your neck. You coughed as he pulled away, and you looked around for anything to get you out of this.

“(Y/N).”

You glanced at him, fresh tears springing forth as he removed his jacket, the fitted sweater almost laughing at you as it showcased his arms, arms that could hold you down with ease. There was no hope for you. These thoughts plagued you as your eyes landed on the bottle of brandy on the driver’s side floor. Ransom followed your gaze before reaching over and grabbing it.

He held it up to you with raised eyebrows, and you hesitantly nodded. You reached for it, but he snatched it back out of your grasp, opting to open it himself before bringing it to your lips. You choked at first, never having been a fan of hard liquor, but it eventually slid down your throat with ease. He sat up a bit, bringing his hand to your hair to tilt your head back.

“Good girl. Whatever makes this easier,” he said, pulling it away.

You were tempted down the whole thing, preferring to just pass out and let him be done with it. The alcohol barely had time to settle hotly in your chest before he was pushing you back, pressing open mouth kisses to your neck.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?” he whispered against your skin.

You squeezed your eyes shut, wincing when he reached down to twist the fabric of your underwear in his hand, yanking and breaking them with a loud pop. His lips found yours again, and you opened your mouth to him, the brandy making your head swim and your body buzz.

He ground against you, and you couldn’t stop a quiet hiss from escaping as the bulge in his pants rubbed against your naked core. You gripped his arms, you weren’t sure why, maybe to ground yourself. Everything was happening so fast, and your fogged brain couldn’t keep up. One of his hands caught on the neck of your shirt, and he ripped it open, drawing a protest out of you.

“Ransom,” you gasped.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he mumbled into your mouth.

Your bra fared the same fate, and your nipples hardened from the cold atmosphere. You shivered, and Ransom pressed against you more, his huge frame shielding you from the cold. He bent his head to take one firm bud into his mouth, and you sharply inhaled. He gave the other one his attention, one of his hands sliding down. To your surprise, he slid one long finger inside of you with ease, and you clenched around him. When had you become so wet?

He hummed, adding a second finger as he flicked his wrist, curling them inside of you over and over again. He pulled a moan from you, and you moved your hand to cover your mouth, closing your eyes as you fought against the heat that was stirring within your gut. His other hand grabbed yours, pulling it away from your mouth just as you came, small gasps and whimpers escaping that he was all too eager to swallow.

Your pussy clenched again as he withdrew from you, and you blinked as you came down, realizing that your vision was spinning a bit, now. Everything was blurring together as you collapsed against the seat, head feeling incredibly heavy all of a sudden. You barely protested as he slipped your skirt down your legs, his sweater following soon after.

You may have been drunk, but you still remembered that you didn’t want this, and a part of you hoped that you could speak to something in him to make him stop.

“Ransom…please,” you mumbled.

He ignored you, too busy releasing himself from the confines of his pants. You dared not look, recalling the feel of it against your thigh, and you knew if you looked then he really would have to hold you down.

“Ransom,” you pleaded, and suddenly he was on you again, a hand on your throat.

“What did I say, hmm?”

His voice was soft, soothing even, but his eyes told a different story, and you started to cry.

“Come on, (Y/N)… You were doing so well,” he said in that patronizing tone that always annoyed you.

You turned your head away and gasped as he began to push his way inside of you. You weren’t a virgin, hadn’t been for a while, but you definitely weren’t the most experienced either. What he lacked in length, if he lacked anything at all, he made up for in girth. Your hands flew to his shoulders, digging into his skin with a vengeance as you stretched around him.

He hissed, and satisfaction bloomed in your chest, but it was quickly squashed when he grabbed your hands, one at a time, and pinned them down. His nose brushed along your collarbone as he bottomed out, and you fought to catch your breath. He pressed his face into the crook of your neck and inhaled, a shudder wracking his frame just before pulling back and snapping his hips against yours.

A strangled moan left your lips, and you tried to move your hands, but his grip was firm.

“I’m going to fuck you in every room of that house,” he groaned, thrusting inside of you.

You trembled beneath him, your mind and body at war. You rejected his words, attempting to remove yourself from the situation, but every time he treated, you clenched even more, as if your body was not only trying to prevent him from leaving, but trying to keep you aware. He eventually let go of one of your hands, and you clawed at the dewy window as your back dragged along the seat.

He tangled his hand in your hair, and you winced at the slight pain there, panting when he grazed his teeth along the skin of your neck.

“You want that? You want me to pin you down and let my family hear who you belong to?”

You shook your head, causing Ransom to chuckle.

“I think you do. I think you like what I do to you. You’re shaking your head, but the way you’re gripping my cock, right now says differently.”

“Ransom,” you gasped when his thrusts became harsher, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the car.

“You can beg all you want, but I own you, (Y/N),” he hissed against your lips. “It’s your word against mine, and I can get the best lawyers in town.”

You swallowed, tears building behind your eyes again as he finally let go of your other hand and gripped your neck. There was a thin layer of sweat on his chest, arms bulging and chest heaving from the effort it took to work his hips against yours.

“You even think of leaving, and I’ll just find you. I’ll tell my grandfather that you were fucking your employers, and you’ll be out of a job, no one will ever hire you,” he threatened.

“No,” you whimpered, at both his words and the coil that was tightening within you.

“Mm, and I’ll still have you as much as I want. Whatever you try, I’m going to have you, so make this easy on yourself, (Y/N),” he purred as you clenched around him. “Enjoy it.”

Broken moans escaped you, now and you dug your hands into his back.

“You know how many girls would kill to be where you are? Huh? I’m fucking _you_ , and hundreds of girls would do anything to be beneath me, and here you are crying about it,” he sneered, pounding into you now.

You tried to keep it at bay, tried to stop it, but you came, tumbling over the edge with a choked sob that almost sounded like a moan. Ransom looked down to where you were connected and cursed.

“Shit,” he hissed, not taking his off of where he was rutting into you. “You’re fucking tight. Milk me, come on my cock. That’s it.”

You felt like it lasted forever as he talked you through it, and soon after you felt a warmth inside of you as he slammed into you one final time. You heaved, fighting to catch your breath and make sense of things as the brown liquor still coursed through you. When Ransom pulled out of you, you shuddered, even more so when the cold finally hit you. You were barely coherent as he maneuvered you, drunk and fucked out and on the cusp of sleep.

It barely registered that you were suddenly wearing a large sweater that wreaked of a cologne you’d smelled on numerous occasions, legs and core sticky from his cum. You heard him right himself, no doubt tucking himself into his pants. You could feel his eyes on you, and you barely peeled yours open to gaze at him as he situated himself and turned the car back on. He looked proud, smug even as he pulled back onto the road.

One of his hands came to rest on the inside of your thigh, digging his fingers into your flesh as he chuckled.

“I can’t wait to do this more often.”

That was the last thing you heard before sleep consumed you.


	2. Chapter 2

You were on edge as you wiped down the counter, uncharacteristically quiet as Fran worked around you. You could feel her eyes on you every now and again, but you pretended not to notice. You knew that she wanted to talk to you about your strange behavior but figured that she was just giving you space…or waiting for the right time to approach you. You dreaded the latter.

It had been two weeks since that night. The night that Ransom had given you a ride home, but not without pulling off to the side of the road to have his way with you first. Then again in your own bed when he dropped you off at home. You swallowed, recalling the way his hands pinned you down as he fucked you into your mattress, tainting what was once your only sanctuary. 

You’d woken up the next morning feeling worse than you’d ever had in your life. Sore spots littered your neck from where he’d paid too much attention, and your hips and thighs fared no better. You didn’t know what to do, and in the end, you’d decided to do nothing. You remembered his threats from that night, and you knew they weren’t empty. He could very much ruin you.

You’d spent the last two weeks on autopilot, going to class like nothing had happened. Everything had almost seemed normal until the Thrombeys wanted you to come by last week to work for their party. You’d declined, an excuse of the flu popping out before you could stop yourself. Linda had seemed sympathetic, but you knew she was more upset they’d be down a set of hands more than anything. It had killed you to feign sick, because you needed the money.

That was how you found yourself present tonight. You desperately needed the money, and you couldn’t avoid this place forever unless you wanted to lose your job. And losing your job would do no good, because….

_“Whatever you try, I’m going to have you, so make this easy on yourself, (Y/N).”_

You sighed, washing your hands as you prepared to get the table ready for tonight.

“(Y/N), can you take these upstairs?”

You turned, watching in horror as Fran walked back into the kitchen with two luggage bags. The family was celebrating Meg’s birthday, so the house was going to be full and lively all weekend. Almost every member of the family had arrived, all except one. You swallowed as you recognized that luggage and took a step forward just as you heard a familiar voice booming from the living room.

With a strained smile, you nodded and swiftly grabbed the bags. You ignored Fran’s worried gaze as you hurried up the stairs, hoping to get upstairs and back down to the kitchen before you ran into anyone you didn’t want to. With a huff, you dropped them in the room Ransom always stayed in whenever he came over. You remembered the one time Jacob had tried to claim the room, and Ransom had almost pushed him down the stairs.

You turned to rush back downstairs only to yelp in shock as you almost collided with a familiar face. You stumbled back, pressing a hand to your chest as you stared at him. Your eyes were wide, lips pressed together as he smirked at you. He was wearing a thick, cream cable knit sweater, looking as put together and inviting as ever. You knew better though. His eyes always told a different story.

“(Y/N),” he greeted, eyes running over you in a way that made you shudder.

You simply nodded at him, clenching your jaw as you made your way towards the door. He caught your arm as you tried to walk past him, face only inches away from your own as he pulled you towards him.

“Where were you last week?”

His voice was hard, eyebrows furrowed as he frowned down at you. You tugged your arm, but his grip was unrelenting.

“I was sick,” you murmured, the lie coming out easily enough.

He raised on eyebrow in that condescending way that always annoyed you.

“…sick?”

“Yes, the flu. I’m sure you’ve heard of it,” you bit out.

He hummed, one hand reaching up to brush along your waist.

“Do we need to get you a flu shot? I wouldn’t want you to get _sick_ again,” he calmly replied, and you knew that he knew you were lying.

You looked away from his dark gaze, attempting to free yourself again.

“No,” you said, pulling on your arm still.

He ignored your struggles, stepping towards you until you were forced to back up.

“My bags must have been heavy,” he started, sliding his hand from your waist and to your shoulder, kneading the flesh there.

A panic began to rise in your chest as you pushed against him, but it was futile. You felt your back graze the wall behind you, and your heart sank to your stomach.

“Ransom, I’m working,” you hissed.

“It’s hilarious that you think I care,” he sneered, pressing his lips against yours.

You turned your head with a gasp, fighting to grab his hand as it made its way beneath your shirt.

“Stop it,” you snapped, although it came out more as a plea.

His hand suddenly had yours in a painful grip, and you whimpered as the other came up to squeeze your jaw. His eyes were cold, determined as he glared at you.

“You do as I say, remember? I _own_ you…”

He jostled your chin, pressing you further into the wall.

“You’re lucky I’m being discreet. With that stunt you pulled last week, I _should_ fuck you for my whole family to hear,” he spat.

“Ransom-.”

“Don’t lie to me. I know you weren’t sick,” he said just before pressing his lips to the skin of your neck.

You screwed your eyes shut, bucking against him as he pressed his teeth down, drawing a gasp from you. His fingers drew patterns against your skin, and you shook when his fingers danced along the edge of your jeans.

You were worried that Fran would come looking for you soon, and you didn’t know how you would explain this to her. You didn’t get a chance to protest again because soon his lips were on yours again. He let go of your wrist, pressing his thumb against your neck as he slid his hand down the front of your pants. Fortunately for you, a noise came from the door just before his fingers brushed along your underwear.

Ransom pulled away, and your eyes widened when you saw none other than Jacob standing in the open doorway. His mouth was parted, smartphone in hand, as he looked over you two in disgust.

“What-?”

You never got to hear what he had to say because you took the distraction as a moment to slip from Ransom’s grasp. You maneuvered your way out of his wandering hand as he reached out to you, rushing past Jacob without a backwards glance.

.

.

.

You had somehow managed to avoid Ransom for the rest of the evening. You weren’t sure what he’d told Jacob, but you were grateful for it because the teenage Nazi hadn’t said a word about what he saw, nor did he hardly acknowledge you. For a while, you thought that luck was on your side, and you’d get to go home without dealing with Ransom for the rest of the night.

Then the rain came. Not only that, but the rain brought the thunder and lightning and heavy winds with it. You gulped as you clutched your coat in your hand, looking outside of the window forlornly.

“Jesus, it’s really coming down out there, huh?” Richard mused, nursing a brandy.

You eyed the brown liquid, remembering that night before suddenly glancing away. Your throat was thick with worry as you prepared yourself to drive in that.

“It’s…it’s not that bad,” you argued, pulling your coat on.

It was then that Linda stepped out of the kitchen, a frown on her face, and you cursed.

“Oh, (Y/N) honey, no. You can’t go out in that! It’s insane out there,” she said, reaching out to help you out of your jacket.

You stepped away, tugging it closed.

“It’s really not that bad. It’s just…drizzling,” you poorly argued with a chuckle.

At that moment, a particularly bright flash of lightning lit up the sky, accompanied by a rumble of thunder.

“No, sweetie, she’s right. It’s like…a monsoon out there. You can’t go out there. It’s way too dangerous,” Joni drawled.

In your peripheral, you saw a figure come to stand in the doorway of the living room. You glanced over, eyes connecting with those of Ransom as he folded his arms over his chest, staring you down. You nervously looked away just as Meg approached.

“I have to get home-.”

“(Y/N), don’t be ridiculous. Just stay the night here. You’re going to be working here all weekend, anyway,” Meg said with a shrug, reaching for your coat.

This time you were unsuccessful, and she slipped it off of you as you swallowed, heart pounding in your chest at the feel of familiar eyes boring into you.

“Guys, I can’t-.”

“Nonsense! Meg’s right. You should totally just stay the night here. We have plenty of rooms in this big ole place,” Joni waved you off.

You fought to keep your eyes off of Ransom as he watched the whole exchange. No doubt, with a smirk in his face.

“I…I don’t have any clothes,” you protested with a shrug.

Meg rolled her eyes, tugging on your arm.

“You can just borrow something of mine,” she argued.

You bit your lip, glancing at Ransom again, unsurprised to find him still staring at you. Only he wasn’t smirking like you had originally thought. His lips were pressed together, eyes focused on you with a carnal hunger that terrified you. You forced yourself to tear your eyes away from him, sick to your stomach. You were officially out of arguments.

“Okay,” you murmured, and Meg beamed as she pulled you towards her room.

.

.

.

You shut the door behind you with a sigh, turning to lock it when your eyes widened. There was no lock on the door. Your lips trembled, lashes fluttering before you took a deep breath and turned around. You dragged your hands down your face as you fought off tears.

You prayed that, miraculously, you’d be left alone tonight. You were hopeful, but not naïve. If Ransom was bold enough to try and have sex with you while his family was downstairs, you knew he’d have no qualms about doing the same while they were all asleep.

You laid in bed for what felt like hours, preparing yourself and waiting. In reality, it could have only been an hour at the most. Your nerves were on end, just wanting to get the whole disgusting ordeal over with, but after a while sleep started to come for you. You tried to fight it, but eventually told yourself that maybe Jacob walking in on the two of you had spooked Ransom. Maybe he didn’t want to chance it…

You weren’t sure how long you were asleep for, but when you were pulled back into consciousness, it was by the feel of familiar lips wrapping around your hardened bud. It took you a while to get your bearings, to truly understand what was happening. There was a fire in between your legs, stroked by long fingers, a weight pressing into you.

You groaned, turning your head and blindly reaching out to push against the weight when your hands were suddenly caught in an iron grip. You awoke with a start, eyes widening as you finally put the pieces together. You hissed when he pressed his hips against yours, realizing with a fright that you were naked. The oversized t-shirt that Meg had found for you was thrown somewhere, leaving Ransom as your only source of warmth as he caged in in against the mattress.

Before you could speak, his lips descended over your own, smothering them in a heated kiss. You squirmed when the head of his cock brushed against your heated core. You shuddered, the sensitivity of it shooting straight through you, and you wondered how long he’d been in here.

“I was looking forward to seeing you last weekend,” he whispered into the darkness.

“I was-.”

“Don’t lie to me,” he snapped. “It’s insulting.”

Just then, a flash of lightning lit up the room, showcasing his hard features and you cringed away from the sinister look in his eyes.

“I should fuck your ass raw, you know that?”

You started struggling again, but his grip was firm.

“…but I won’t. I’ll let it slide. I was a bit rough with you…but you just drive me crazy,” he groaned, leaning down to trail his lips along your shoulder.

You stared up at the ceiling, resigned to your fate as he began to push himself inside of you.

“I bid my time, and now I finally have you. You’re mine, (Y/N). Do you understand that?”

A gasp escaped your lips when he shoved himself to the hilt, thighs pressing into yours as you turned your head away.

“I expect you to be here whenever we need you. No more lies, no more excuses. The next time you claim you’re too sick to work, I’ll just have to come and check on you myself,” he threatened, thrusting inside of you.

You squeezed your eyes shut when the room lit up again, the visual of him hovering over you burned into your brain. He finally let go of your wrists, leaning over until his bare chest pressed against your own, hands pulling on your hair as he panted into your ear.

You didn’t like this angle. The brushes against your clit were sending fire through your veins, toes curling and teeth clenching as you fought off the pleasure. Your head was pulled back as his hips kept your pinned to the bed. You could hardly move, only able to dig your nails into his side as he fucked you into the soft mattress.

How could you ever think that Ransom wasn’t capable of…this? How could you have been so naïve that night? In all the time you’d known him, Ransom had never done a single thing out of the kindness of his heart. He liked having power over a people, a hold over them, and since that first day you’d met him, you had refused to give him any sort of power. But Ransom was just the type to take it.

A strangled moan slipped past your lips as you felt your climax approaching. Ransom heard it, and you could almost hear the smirk in his voice when he spoke.

“That’s it, (Y/N). Accept it…”

You fought against it, reaching in between you two to push him away, but he wasn’t having that. He gripped both of your wrists, sitting up as he pressed them against your stomach while his other hand found a home on your throat. He picked up his pace, and you whimpered, attempting to press your thighs together, feet pushing against his hips.

“Come on, (Y/N). Don’t be like that… Just accept it and make both of our lives so much easier,” he urged.

Your chest was heaving, legs trembling as he pounded into you.

“I can make you feel like this all the time,” he growled. “Just me, and no one else.”

You pulled against his harsh grip, gasping when he slammed into you, balls slapping against your skin. He finally let your hands go, only to press his own into the base of your spine, arching your back up as he bent down and sank his teeth into the skin of your chest. You thrashed against him, trembling in his arms as your orgasm hit you like truck. You bit your lip hard enough to hurt, nails dragging down his arms, a low hiss escaping him as he emptied himself inside of you.

Your legs were still shaking when he lowered you down to the mattress, harsh breaths in sync with your own. He suddenly chuckled, pressing open mouth kisses to your dewy skin. His hands were tight on your waist as his mouth descended. Another flash brightened the room, just as your eyes connected with his.

“You’ll come around. I have all the time in the world to fuck you into submission.”


End file.
